


Expectations vs. Reality vs. Reality

by daintylemonsquare



Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Ass Fuck??, M/M, No this isn't smut, Pure Uncut Natural Fluff, domestic as fuck, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27929509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daintylemonsquare/pseuds/daintylemonsquare
Summary: Julian and Clark moved in together and had notions of what a morning together would look like. Too bad work got in the way.
Relationships: Julian Larson-Armstrong/Clark Sawyer
Kudos: 5





	Expectations vs. Reality vs. Reality

When Julian and Clark decided to move in together, they had notions of having breakfast together and waking up next to each other and getting ready together. They were proven to be fools quickly.

Julian was off on a press junket for his movie when Clark was all moved in. The morning was dark and cold. Clark was bleary and groggy when Julian told him that he was going to work. He still smiled, wished Julian luck, and kissed him. Julian let him, even with the unromantic taste of sleep lingering on his lips. It was fair, considering Julian was leaving him alone in the house for an extended period of time. Before he left, he looked over his shoulder. Clark pulled Julian’s pillow from his side of the bed and snuggled with it. Julian would’ve taken a picture if he wasn’t hellbent on being punctual.

Clark was filming on location when Julian decided to take a break. It was a silly series of fortunate events where Clark thought he wasn’t going to get called back for the role and Julian was convinced to schedule time-off since Clark had free time and he could have free time. When everything was planned out, that was when Clark’s agent told him that he had a callback. Clark almost declined the role but Julian threatened to make him sleep on the couch for a whole year if he did that. (Not that Julian would, but he insisted that Clark go for it.)

“It’s an acting curse. You think you bomb the audition then when you decide to make other plans, they swoop in with a callback,” Julian said.

“That’s not a thing, right?” Clark cocked his head to the side, trying to remember previous auditions. “Has that ever happened to you?”

“No, because I’m Julian Larson,” he said. Clark barked out a short laugh. “But I’ve heard other actors have that happen to.”

Julian woke up on his scheduled break to a lonely bed and a CD case propped against Clark’s pillow. He picked it up and flipped it over. “I put it together while you were sleeping. Some songs I recorded while you were away. Kept it for when I went away too. Love, Clork.” Then he drew a wonky heart. A menagerie of animals followed the butterflies when Julian put the CD on.

It was difficult to have proper mornings together. Mornings that they’d acted for in films or shows or music videos. Julian and Clark had never been confronted by how their craft had created unrealistic expectations for how moving in together would look like. Clark had a late night songwriting with Haven while Julian had to wake up early to be at an interview. Julian had to work into the witching hour while Clark had a meeting about a collaboration that was still in the early stages of planning. On and on it went—drowsy good mornings followed by a hurried kiss, one of them coming in and calling it a night while the other was up and ready to deal with a new day.

They didn’t have many chances for the mornings they imagined before moving in together.

But when they did, it was always a perfect morning.

This was what a perfect morning for Clark and Julian looked like:

Julian would already be awake. He was used to the odd hours. He ran on coffee, naps, and ambition. He would stay in bed though, after making some coffee. Clark would stir from the smell of coffee and a hint of highlighter. He’d crack an eye open and see the blurry visage of his boyfriend several pages deep in a script he was considering or studying. Either way, he would place a palm on top of the script, pushing it away with as much energy he could muster with sleep still fresh in his veins. “C’mere,” he would murmur. Sometimes it was “stop” or “cuddle” or just “Jules.” No matter what, Julian let the script flutter away and he sunk back into the sheets with Clark. Sometimes they had sex, oftentimes, they lied there, holding each other, enjoying each other’s warmth and the tender exploration of their hands. (They caressed, brushed, and ran their hands over each other in a sleepy, directionless shapes, as if they were trying to make sure it was as they left it the night before.) A few minutes in, Clark asked about the script, asked about what their day looked like, how long they could stay there as lumps under the covers. Before long, the need for food was too loud and they would have to leave the bed.

Clark made breakfast since Julian made coffee. He wasn’t much of a cook. Sometimes, he missed Mikey’s cooking, but he was getting better. As long as he had instructions and everything was pre-portioned, it didn’t turn out half-bad. They played unreleased music in the background. Julian commented on it. Clark responded. If a song took their fancy, Clark would bow and extend his hand. Julian would take it. They would clumsily dance around their kitchen table until the song ended. Sometimes, they stayed dancing afterwards.

Then they would eat at their own pace. Julian noticed that Clark was still a food vacuum, reminded of the early years of their friendship and how he was able to make a whole pizza disappear when Julian turned his back. While Clark checked his phone for messages and graciously interacted with a handful of fans, he noticed that Julian chewed thirty-two times each time.

“Stop counting my chews,” Julian said, eyes glued to his script.

“I’m still trying to figure out if you count it or not,” Clark retorted.

Julian smirked and shook his head, offering no further responses.

Finally, they would take a bath together. In the weeks leading up to Clark moving in, Julian had a bigger bath tub installed just to be sure that both of them would fit. He had the money for it, might as well. And these baths with Clark were divine. Clark loved it when Julian washed his hair. Julian loved watching a giddy Clark choose a bath bomb. The music kept playing, this time with music they could sing along to. Julian didn’t sing when he bathed until Clark. Now they had small concerts whenever they had a chance to take a bath together.

Sometimes they had sex. Oftentimes they sang.

Once that was over and responsibilities were on the horizon, they picked out each other’s outfits and went along with it. Then they would go to work. That looked different, depending on the day. Today, it was all at home. Clark went to his studio for a voice-over gig he snatched. Julian went to his office to have video conferences about a movie he was producing. This was the ideal since they could each just sneak in and take a break with the other.

This was what a perfect morning for Clark and Julian looked like.

**Author's Note:**

> Song I Listened to On Repeat While Writing This:  
> I'm All Out of Love by Air Supply  
> because  
> why not


End file.
